


Regrets

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Request: Anonymous. Hi there I was wondering you could write something where the reader has lived with John and the boys since she was young after saved her from something. But when john makes the deal to save dean, could you write that he saved the reader? Then dean starts to resent her for it because he misses his dad, then maybe she finally gets mad at dean for treating her so poorly so she leaves but gets hurt by a demon or something, then the boys save her and dean confesses his love for her?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Anonymous. Hi there I was wondering you could write something where the reader has lived with John and the boys since she was young after saved her from something. But when john makes the deal to save dean, could you write that he saved the reader? Then dean starts to resent her for it because he misses his dad, then maybe she finally gets mad at dean for treating her so poorly so she leaves but gets hurt by a demon or something, then the boys save her and dean confesses his love for her?

_“Come on out, sweetheart.” John knelt down, holding out a hand to you. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” His voice was soft, and caring. You were huddled up in the corner of your closet, gripping your stuffed bunny close, despite your parent’s blood on it. You were sobbing quietly, shaking. “I got the bad guys, okay?”_

_You finally looked up at him. “Are you like Batman?” You asked quietly._

_He gave her a small smile. “Kinda.” He nodded. “I protect people from the bad guys, I just don’t got all the cool gadgets.” He chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you outta here.”_

* * *

_You flopped back on the bed, groaning. It had been four years since John saved you and took you in. You were 9, Sammy was 10, and Dean was 14. So, of course, that meant that Dean teased you constantly. Sammy would stick up for you, and then John would tell you all to knock it off. “Dean?” You looked over at him. Despite it all, Dean had a soft spot for you._

_He groaned. “What?”_

_“Can you walk me to the library?” You asked._

_“Really?” He raised an eyebrow._

_You nodded. “John said I can’t go out without you.”_

_He sighed. “Come on, kid.”_

* * *

_John was in the passenger’s seat of Baby, damn near having a heart attack. “Okay, take a breath, and try again.” He told you, keeping his voice calm and steady._

_Your hands were shaking on the steering wheel. “Why couldn’t we steal a car for this?” You whined._

_He laughed and shook his head. “I taught the boys to drive in Baby, I ain’t changin’ that with you, sweetheart.”_

_“Yeah, but if I scratch her, o-or…” You worried._

_“You’ll be fine.”_

_The door opened and Dean peaked in. “Come on, Dad. Let me try.” He smirked at you. “You’re probably scaring her. Big bad wolf or some shit.”_

_You shot him a look. “Dick.”_

_He laughed. “That’s mature.”_

* * *

_Dean was in your face, angry. “I said ‘no’, and that’s final!” He ground out._

_“I’m 16!” You shot back. “I can only imagine what you were doing at 16! Or ‘who’.”_

_Sam walked in and looked between the two of you. “Um….” He started awkwardly. “Dad wants to know what all the yellings about.”_

_You turned to look at him. “I got asked on a date. Asshat here is trying to tell me I can’t go.” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. “It’s ONE date.” You whined. “Can’t I act like a normal teenager for once?”_

_“No, I know what ‘normal’ teenagers do.” Dean snapped._

_Turning, you shoved Dean. “Just because you fuck every girl you take out doesn’t mean that he does.”_

_“Hey!” John’s voice cut in. “Cut it out.”_

* * *

_Doing a small turn, you blushed. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” John kissed your temple._

_You grinned. “Thank you!” It was your senior prom, and he’d stayed an extra two weeks just for tonight. Him and Sam had pulled together some money to buy you a dress. Nothing over the top, or too flashy, but it was the nicest thing you owned. You turned to Dean, who was scowling. His back was against the wall, arms crossed. “What do you think, Dean?” You asked, biting your lip._

_He sighed. “You look great.”_

_Your smile faltered at how little he seemed to mean that. You gave him a sad smile. “Thanks.” You told him before turning. “Alright, I’m ready to go. Sam, you still dropping me off?”_

_Dean just didn’t want you to go. You did look great, and that was the problem. He didn’t want you to wind up in the backseat of some punk’s car._

* * *

_Laughing, you did the shot and made a face. “That’s **disgusting**.” You made a face._

_“Bottoms up, sweetheart.” John grinned._

_Dean smirked. “You ain’t walkin’ back in that motel sober.”_

_“Our girl’s 21!” John laughed. “Happy birthday, princess.” He slid you another shot._

_“I hate you right now.” You laughed, shaking your head and downing the shot. “Oh good LORD do I hate you right now.” You teased._

_John threw his head back, laughing. “Oh, just you wait.” He teased. “Hangovers are a bitch.”_

_You shot him a look. “Ugh. Why do you want me to get a hangover?”_

_“So you learn.” Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t exactly work for me.”_

_“Yeah, well, you’re thick headed.” You teased._

* * *

_“Dean, please!” You begged. “This is serious!” John had left days ago. He hadn’t called, texted, or anything. You were worried sick. John had found you a scared little five year old girl, clinging to a bloody stuffed bunny. Over the past 16 years, he helped build you into a strong hunter, helped you become a strong person. You owed it to him to make sure that he was safe. It wasn’t you doubting him, it wasn’t you wanting to keep tabs on him- it was simply you worrying about the only father figure you really knew._

_Dean ran his hand through his hair, trying John’s phone again. “Damn it!” He snapped. “Get in the goddamn car.” He told you. “Let’s go get Sammy back.”_

_You stared at him, surprised. “We’re going to Stanford?” You asked._

_He smirked. “You bet your ass we are.” The thought of seeing him again made you grin. You hadn’t seen him since him and John fought before Sam left for Stanford._

* * *

_Blinking, you looked around. You’d been playing memories over in your mind, and you weren’t expecting to wake up in a hospital. “The hell?” You groaned. The only other person in the room was John. “What is it?” You asked, watching his profile. In all your years with him, you’d never seen him look so vulnerable. That wasn’t how he was.  
_

_He looked at you, emotional. “You know when you were a kid?” He started. “I’d come home from a hunt, and after what I’d seen…I’d be- I’d be wrecked.” You nodded slightly, your eyes watering. More than once you had worried for him. “And you? You’d come up to me, you’d put your hand on my shoulder, and you’d look me in the eye. And you-” Here stood John Winchester, holding back tears, and you were starting to worry. “You’d say ‘it’s okay, John’.” He gave you a sad smile. There’d been nights where you’d fall asleep curled up to his side after refusing to go to bed. Told him that you’d keep away the nightmares like he did for you. The next morning you’d wake up tucked into your own bed, John already awake. He’d give you a small, thankful smile, and nothing more would be said. For him, you’d been a comfort, a light in the dark. “Y/N.” His voice was almost hoarse it was so low. “I’m sorry._

_It took you a moment. “What?”_

_“You shouldn’t have had to say that to me.” He let out a sad chuckle. “I shoulda- I shoulda been saying that to you. You know I put- I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast.” What the hell was happening? You knew that John cared, he’d always shown you in his way, he wasn’t one to blurt out his feelings, or be emotional. “You took care of Sammy, you took care of me, and hell, you took care of Dean! You did that.” John smiled, looking proud. “And you didn’t complain. Not. Once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you.” He was having a harder time holding back. His lip actually quivered!_

_A cold feeling ran down your body, like you knew something was wrong. “Is this really you talking?” You asked quietly, your eyes locked on his._

_John nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s really me.” He sniffed._

_“Why’re you saying this stuff?”_

_Moving over, he put his hand on your shoulder. “I want you to watch out for those boys, okay?”_

_“Yeah, John, you know I will. You’re scaring me.” You’d seen John angry. You’d seen John have screaming matches with Sam. And this was far scarier._

_“Don’t be scared, Y/N.”_

* * *

Groaning, you rolled over. “Come on. Get the hell up!” Dean snapped. Sighing, you sat up and stretched. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

“I’m up, _asshole_.” You grumbled, standing and running your hand through your hair. After John died, the three of you seemed to go through life in a daze. Then the truth came out- John was the reason you were alive. Dean became cold after that. He wasn’t the Dean you grew up with. The soft spot he once had for you seemed to harden completely.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Get ready. We leave in twenty.” He moved to walk away.

You got up and walked over to him, grabbing his arm. “Dean!” You snapped. “I’m sick of this shit.”

He turned and glared at you. “ _Excuse_ me?”

“You treating me like shit.” You told him, a look of hurt and anger on your face.

“No one’s forcing you to stay, sweetheart!” He pointed out.

You shook your head. “What is your problem?” You asked. “When we were younger, you were fine. Treated me like that annoying little sister, but you still had my back. What _changed_?” All you wanted was answers.

Dean got closer, letting you see all the little details on his face- the freckles, the way his jaw twitched when he was pissed, the way his eyes shifted colors slightly, everything. Your eyes were burning with un-shed tears. “You _really_ wanna know my problem?” He asked, daring you to push him.

“ ** _YES_**!” You screamed at him. By now, you were waiting for Sammy to come back from his run, or getting breakfast. Whatever he was doing.

He chuckled darkly. “You asked, sweetheart.” Dean pointed out. “My problem is that you are here.” His eyes met yours. “Dad died to save your ass. _Why_? Why sell his soul, and hand over the colt….for you.” He moved his hand up and down your body. “We’ve lugged you around since you were a kid. Maybe it was some pity thing? Maybe he always wanted a daughter.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, but you’re here. He’s not. _End of story_.”

You sucked in a breath. “You waited years to tell me this?” You asked, the tears finally falling. “ _Fine_.” You wiped your cheeks, shoving the emotions down- just like a Winchester. Turning, you grabbed your bag, shoving the few things you’d taken back out into it. You’d passed out in your jeans the night before, so you pulled off your shirt and pulled on a clean one. “I’ll get out of your way, Dean.” You pulled on your boots and grabbed your coat. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you looked at him. “Tell Sam I said I’m sorry I took John from you. I didn’t know I was hated _that_ badly.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He snapped.

Stopping by him, you took a deep breath and slapped him across the face as hard as you could.

* * *

You licked the fresh blood off your lip, wincing slightly. Your hands were bound above your head, a hook holding you up. A fist came forward, connecting with your abdomen. Your toes barely scraped the floor as you swayed, coughing. Spitting the blood from your mouth, you glared at the demon who was currently using you as a punching bag. “I told you! I don’t know where they are!” You yelled.

“Now, _why_ don’t I believe you?” She mused. “Oh, maybe it’s the fact that you and those two are never far away.” Her knife moved across your collarbone. “Now, tell me where those two are.” Her teeth were clenched together.

“I haven’t seen them in months.” You told her. “I wasn’t wanted, so I walked out. They aren’t coming.”

She cocked an eyebrow at you. “Well, then. I don’t need to keep you around, do I?”

* * *

“Alright, we should be getting close.” Sam told him. He was hoping that Dean was focused. Every since you left, he wasn’t all there.

Dean nodded. “Good.” He said simply. Truth was, he regretted those words the moment he said them. He hoped you’d go back to something normal, stop hunting. Then word got around in the hunting world, Y/N and the Winchesters went their own ways. His stomach dropped and his heart broke. If you died, it was on him. Your blood would be on his hands.

They hadn’t had a lead on you in a few weeks, so they were doing hunt, after hunt, just to keep him busy, and hope for news.

Busting through the door, he felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t tell if you were alive or not.

“Looks like she was wrong.” She sighed, turning. “She was trying to tell me that you boys didn’t want her, and that you weren’t coming. Looks like I win!” She smirked.

Dean’s jaw clenched. “What the hell do you want, you bitch?”

She tsked, waving her knife in a ‘no’ motion, slowly walking. “I’d play nice if I were you.” She reached up, gripping your hair and making you look up. Your eyes slowly opened, looking over at Sam and Dean. “See? I have her life in my hands, and well, she’s no more use to me.” She brought the knife to your throat.

Gripping his gun tight, Dean pulled the trigger. The bullets wouldn’t kill her, but it would get the knife from your throat. Shot after shot rang out as he moved forward, emptying the clip into her chest. The pure anger was written across his face.

Snapping out of it, Sam quickly started the exorcism. As he finished, she smoked out, back to hell.

“Y/N?” Dean’s anger fell, replaced with fear as he rushed over to you. Him and Sam helped you down gently before cutting the ropes that had bound you. He fell to the ground with you, putting your back against his chest. His eyes looked over your body, seeing the cuts and bruises. “Oh, _God_ , baby.”

You let out a half chuckle. “I don’t see why you’re so concerned.” You shook your head.

Sam swallowed. “I’ll go get some stuff out of the car…” He said quietly, motioning to the door before walking out. This way, Dean would get to talk to you, and you’d get cleaned up with he got back.

Dean’s cheek went against your temple. “I’m _so_ sorry.” He told you, and you could hear the tears.

“Don’t be. I should have died.” You sighed. “You might get your wish.” Reaching down, you lifted part of your shirt, wincing. He could tell it wouldn’t be from hitting anything, but because of blood loss if you died.

He quickly stripped off his flannel and pushed it to your wound, feeling you recoil from the pain, hissing. “No, I lied.” He told you.

“What?” You asked through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t mean anything I said.” He closed his eyes. “Fuck, I didn’t mean a goddamn word of it.” You finally let your own tears fall. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I-I hoped my pushing you away that you’d be safe. You’d quit the life, get everything you deserve. Then you didn’t. I hoped to run into you, and then I hadn’t heard anything about you for weeks. I was afraid you’d died somewhere and I would never know.” The fear and pain was in his voice. “Come home. Come back to me, to Sammy, the cheap motels, bad coffee, all that shit. Please.” He begged. You were silent. “You don’t have to love me. Fuck, you don’t even have to like me.” He added. When you didn’t answer, he shifted you slightly, your eyes were closed, and he panicked.

Sam came back in and rushed over when he saw Dean sobbing while holding you, rocking back and forth. “Dean?!” He asked, falling to his knees. Reaching over, he felt for a pulse. “She’s alive.” He breathed, grabbing the first aid supplies.

Dean looked up at Sam. “Please don’t let her die, Sammy.”


	2. Atonement

_“I didn’t mean anything I said.” He closed his eyes. “Fuck, I didn’t mean a goddamn word of it.” You finally let your own tears fall. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I-I hoped my pushing you away that you’d be safe. You’d quit the life, get everything you deserve. Then you didn’t. I hoped to run into you, and then I hadn’t heard anything about you for weeks. I was afraid you’d died somewhere and I would never know.” The fear and pain was in his voice. “Come home. Come back to me, to Sammy, the cheap motels, bad coffee, all that shit. Please.” He begged. You were silent. “You don’t have to love me. Fuck, you don’t even have to like me.” He added. When you didn’t answer, he shifted you slightly, your eyes were closed, and he panicked.  
_

_Sam came back in and rushed over when he saw Dean sobbing while holding you, rocking back and forth. “Dean?!” He asked, falling to his knees. Reaching over, he felt for a pulse. “She’s alive.” He breathed, grabbing the first aid supplies.  
_

_Dean looked up at Sam. “Please don’t let her die, Sammy.”_

* * *

##  _**Sam’s POV** _

It killed me to watch him like this. Dean hadn’t moved from your side, except to use the bathroom, since we’d made it back to the motel.

That was four days ago.

You hadn’t spoken a word yet, and I knew that broke him more and more. I couldn’t fault you, though. Dean hadn’t told me exactly what had been said the day you walked out- until we’d changed you from your bloody clothes into one of my shirts. We took turns checking your injuries, keeping the gash on your side well cared for.

Dean was currently sporting a healing split lip, and a shiner. My rage and overwhelmed me when he told me the cruel things he’d said. Without a second thought, my fist connected with his face. Part of me had expected him to hit me back, scream at me. Anything. Instead, he’d taken it, barely bothering to wipe the blood from his face. That was the second I knew how badly this got to him.

* * *

##  **_Dean’s POV_ **

It didn’t bother me that I could feel the hair on my face, or that I’m sure my hair looked like I’d been sleeping in hair gel. It didn’t bother me that Sam had hit me harder than ever before. I deserved that, and worse, if I was being honest.

I’d sat by your side day and night, holding your hand in mine. Not once had you said anything. I wanted you to yell at me. I wanted you to scream at me. Hit me, cry, tell me to fuck off. Anything would be better than the silence that hung between us.

It was the fourth night and my head was resting on the side of your bed, my eyes growing heavy, when you finally spoke up. “Dean?” My head shot up, my bloodshot eyes, looking into your Y/E/C eyes. My name was the first word you’d said to me since I confessed my love for you. “Why am I here?” You asked me, your eyes watering. “Why save me? The last time I saw you…” Your breath hitched as you looked down at our hands. “The last time I saw you, I slapped you across the face when you finally told me how you really feel about me.”

My heart shattered. You didn’t remember the warehouse, didn’t remember anything I’d said to you. You thought I hated you with every fiber of my being. That’s why you weren’t talking- you were afraid. “That’s not the last time I saw you, sweetheart.” I breathed.

* * *

##  **_Reader’s POV_ **

“Well, fine. Last time we spoke.” I sighed. “Obviously you must have saved me from that bitch if I’m laying here. I just don’t get why.” It felt like just yesterday that he’d pretty much told you that he wanted you dead. You were here because John wasn’t, and that pissed him off. “Why waste your time saving someone you hate so much?” I sobbed, the movement causing my side to throb. Pushing the blankets back, I took my hand from his.

Dean got up, rushing around to try and help me up. “I-I came clean at the warehouse. I didn’t mean anything I’d said!” It was almost like he was begging to me to remember.

I sighed, my arm crossed over my stomach, my hand holding my side. “What are you talking about?”

“How can you not remember? You talked to me, you just didn’t hear the last part.”

Furrowing my brows, I shook my head. “Couldn’t have meant shit if you can’t bother to repeat it.” I snapped back. “It was probably just guilt.”

* * *

##  _**Dean’s POV** _

You moved around me, your arm brushing against mine. “I meant every word of it.”

“Then why are you accusing me of knowing what you’re talking about when I clearly don’t?” Your voice was soft. “You keep referring to some magic words that prove you don’t want me dead, and yet, instead of patiently reminding me of what was said…. _While I was dying_ … You get upset with me.”

I ran my hand through my disheveled hair. “I’ve barely slept in the past four days, Y/N. I’ve barely eaten. Give me a break, it’s been hard on me. Thinking that I’d lose you, and then to be stuck to your side, with you remaining completely quiet.”

As she made her way to grab her things, I knew I’d said the wrong thing. She almost died, and I was acting like I’d had it so much worse.

* * *

##  **_Reader’s POV_ **

I gathered what I could, planning on going back to my own room, away from Dean. Holding my thing against me, I turned towards the door. Crying out, I dropped my things, my hand moving to the dresser.

Dean was by my side in a heartbeat, holding me up. “Come on.” He said quietly, trying to get me back to the bed.

“I want to go back to my room.” I ground out, glancing up when the door opened, revealing Sam. “Sam, take me back to my room.” My eyes locked with his hazel ones, his face softening. “Please.” I breathed out.

* * *

##  **_Sam’s POV_ **

Sighing, I moved over and gently lifted her. “We checked you out. Or…I did.” I told her, not missing how her body seemed to slump at that. “Come on, let me look at your side.” Putting her down, the tension could be felt. I looked over to Dean, and gave him a sad smile. “Why don’t you take a shower, and go get something for lunch?”

“Sam, come on…” He looked so broken.

“Go. Now.” I said firmly, wanting to get them away from each other. Just for a bit. I wanted to ease your stress, check your side, and finally get to talk to you.

Finally, Dean stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. “Why am I here, Sam?” You asked, looking at me, crying.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When you cried, I saw that little girl that Dad had brought home all over again. The scared little thing that that had nightmares, I heard your small voice call out for your parents, and it killed me. You were so strong, one hell of a fighter, but deep down, that little girl was tucked away. Licking my lips, I started to lift the side of your shirt before I started talking. “Because we care about you, Y/N/N.”

You shook your head at me. “ _You_ might, but…not Dean.” You told me quietly. I went to open my mouth, but you kept talking. “I don’t know if he told you the things he said, Sam. I still wake up in tears over how much he hates me.” The look in your eyes made my stomach clench. “I’m here, and John’s not. That’s all he sees when he looks at me. Some pathetic little girl that John took pity on, and then wasted his soul- and the colt- saving.”

* * *

##  **_Dean’s POV_ **

Pulling off my shirt, I tossed it to the side. I could hear them talking, and every word was like a knife to the heart. Clenching my jaw, I gripped the sides of the sink. I hung my head, forcing myself not to go out there. Not to take you in my arms. If Sam didn’t deck me again, seeing your heart break would make me wish that he had.

 _“No…”_ Sam started. Lifting my head up, I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what Sam would tell you. _“He doesn’t think that. At all. After you left he was a complete wreck. He was barely Dean.”_

I moved towards the door, leaning back against it, wanting to hear you better. Talk about torture. _“You mean he didn’t go out drinking and fucking every little thing in a skirt? Because I find that extremely hard to believe.”_ You scoffed. _“I’ve loved him for years…Years, Sam. I sat by, always smiling when it killed me to hear him with other woman. I accepted that he’d never see me as anything but an annoying little sister. And in the end it wasn’t even that. I was a burden. The reason that you two lost John. I saw the anger, and the hatred, Sam!”_ You sobbed, your breathing becoming more like gulps.

That did it.

* * *

##  **_Sam’s POV_ **

Hearing a crash, both of us looked over at the bathroom door. I knew those sounds. Dean was trashing the bathroom. “He regrets saving me.” I looked over at you. “He’s upset that I’m here, and causing more problems.”

“Dean _loves_ you!” I blurted out. “I have never seen him so broken before. When I came back into that warehouse from getting medical supplies, he was rocking with you in his arms, sobbing. The first words he said when he saw me? ‘Please don’t let her die, Sammy’.” Your eyes were wide.

Your chest was heaving as you tried to process what I had just told you. “Then why hurt me so badly?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

##  **_Reader’s POV_ **

I wanted to believe what Sam was saying, but I couldn’t. Dean had slowly pushed me away until I was shoved out that door. His words weighed on me, playing like a broken record. “Because I wanted to keep you safe!” Dean’s voice snapped me from my thoughts. He stepped from the bathroom, and I could see the chaos that had come crashing down on the contents of the bathroom. His knuckles bloody from shattering the mirror. “We had to watch our father die. Yes, he saved you- but all I could think was…what about next time? I’d sell my soul for you in a fucking heartbeat, so would Sammy.” He moved closer to the bed, his green eyes locked on mine. “But just the thought of it getting to that point made me want to throw up. I hoped that by saying those things you’d get away from hunting. You’d go back to the normal life, yo-you’d meet some normal safe guy, you’d get some boring, safe job, and you’d be okay.”

Sam continued gently cleaning my side, keeping his eyes down. I glanced to him for a moment, then back to Dean. “You wanted to keep me safe by breaking my heart?”

* * *

##  **_Dean’s POV_ **

“I wanted to keep you safe from me…from us!” I cupped your cheeks, keeping your eyes on mine. “I fucked up. I know this. I will do everything I can to make this up to you. Please. Come home. To us. To bad coffee, cheap motels, blood, cheap beer, and all that comes with it. Hate me if you want, just please…come home!”

I could see the gears working in your head, the same way they had when you were younger. “I could never hate you, Dean.” You told me. “I can’t say I’ll trust you… “ You glanced at Sam for a moment, and then back to me. “But I will come home.” You gave me a small smile, giving more more hope than I’d had in days. “First, though, take a damn shower. You smell.”

Laughing, I kissed your forehead. “Will do, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re back.”


End file.
